


Beginning of the End

by VanillaBeanChild



Category: Underfell - Fandom, Undertale
Genre: F/M, Flowey is a dick at times, Flowey is a mix of UF and UT, Inspired by Fanfiction, Papyrus is secretly a softie, Reader Is Not Chara, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader is a Bitch, Reader is in her early 20s, Sans is a douchebag, Tagging as I go, Tags Are Hard, Underfell - Freeform, but not because the apocalypse is on the surface not underground, drug references, morbid sense of humor, more tags to go, puns of course what do you think? it's Sans, reader is female, sardonic humor galore, sort of a zombie apocalypse au, voyeurism in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 22:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13866867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanillaBeanChild/pseuds/VanillaBeanChild
Summary: "If you're tellin' the truth, then I'm gonna be the one to feed your whore ass to those things you keep ramblin' on about."Who knew your story would begin at the end of the world?





	Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> This work is based off of a fiction over on Quotev by Sour Skittles called https://www.quotev.com/story/8954322/Challenge-Accepted-Underfell-Sans-x-Reader/1 (Challenge Accepted). I urge you to read that as it is very well written and took my breath away. Please go show miss Mafia some love as she truly deserves it! Thanks!

 

* * *

_ It hurts. Everything hurts. My sides, my arms, my legs. Oh god, my head feels like it was beat with a rock. What the fuck did I do? _

A groan slipped past your lips as you slowly lifted yourself into a crumpled, but technically, upright position. Light streamed in from above, dim from the early evening sun. Has it really been that long since you left? You licked your dry lips to moisten them properly.  You really should have stole some chapstick while you were in that town. Can’t change that now.

You moved your jaw around with your hand, making sure it hadn’t popped out of place from whatever you had gone through. Speaking of which, you glanced around, completely shocked of your surroundings. 

You were in some sort of cavern, a cave with no way out. The walls were dark red, stalactites were hanging high above and stalagmites were poking out of the cave ground. There didn’t look to be any way to enter the cavern without falling through the ceiling, so walking out manually didn’t seem like an option. 

You shook your head. You would figure this out later, for now, you had to make sure nothing was missing or broken. First you checked your gun, er, well, the gun you picked up from those guys on the side of the road… Yeah, they didn’t need it anymore… The beretta looked just as it did yesterday, with the addition of some new scratches and blemishes, but nothing that would prove the weapon useless. You sheathed the gun in the holster on your belt. A quick sniff of your shoulder informed you that you were in desperate in of a shower. 

You snorted. Everyone up there needed a showerー everyone alive that is. You shoved the unwanted and unnecessary thoughts to the back of your head. You would worry about everyone else later.  

Your backpack was laid beside you, the contents being sifted through to make sure everything was accounted for. The extra clips to your gun were in a smaller pocket in the front with a folded piece of paper. You quickly zipped the bag up and shouldered it on your back.  Another glance around the cavern and you saw the short hall on the opposite hall. You hesitated.  

It looked like a doorway was carved into the rock around the hole, causing goosebumps to crawl up your skin. Was someone down here? Did you blindly fall into some other survivor’s camp? Or something totally different? The grip you had on your backpack strap tightened.  Maybe venturing out is a bad idea, but then again, if those guys came back and you were down here, they would kill you on sight. Yeah, dying was not on the agenda for todayー or any day really. 

Onward it is. 

You traveled through the doorway, entering a very similar cavern to the one you just left. For a moment you thought you were bending space to end up back in the same room as the one you fell in. Some Portal shit was going on, and you really felt it start to make you nauseous. However, upon closer inspection, you assessed that it wasn’t the same room as before. 

For example, there was a battered and bruised golden flower sprouting on a small mound of grass highlighted by dim, evening sunlight from a hole in the ceiling. Okay, maybe some wind or animals dropped seeds own the hole? Or something. Flowers weren’t something anyone saw underground very often. Lack of sunlight and all that photosynthe-shit. Still, it was refreshing to see something so pure in such a dark, dismal place. 

You wanted to walk past the golden flower to the next corridor, but something held you back. You were already at the door frame when you looked over the flower. For whatever reason, it looked… sad. Depressed, even. 

And so the internal debate began. Being a florist’s daughter sucked sometimes. Being a florist’s daughter in the middle of the apocalypse sucked. Everything sucked. 

Against whatever better judgement you had developed from the fall of the world, you ventured over to the flower and kneeled beside it, unzipping your bag. You only had a bottle and a half of water left, but doing something reminiscent of your old life reminded you that you were still human and not some monster. You unscrewed the cap of the bottle and was just about to pour half the bottle into the plant’s roots when the head of the flower quickly turned to face you, beady eyes wide and mouth turned into a frantic scowl. 

“No! Don’t pour it!” 

You jumped back, your own eyes wide with shock and fear. The flower just spoke. It had a face. The water bottle slipped from your hand, landing at the base of the flower’s stem. Before your very eyes, a pair of vines picked up the bottle and pulled it up to the flower’s head. With a quick glance to you, the vines poured much of the water into its mouth. When the bottle was empty, the flower let the plastic bottle fall from his vines to the grassy little mound. “Thanks…”

Wha…

“What the fuck?!” You scrambled back, bringing your arm up to cover your face just in case the plant attacked. You’ve seen  _ The Little Shop of Horrors _ , you weren’t no fool. When a plant started talking, usually that meant they wanted you to kill someone to feed them… Or it meant that you were super doped up on some bad mushrooms.  

_ Note to self: re: don’t eat strange mushrooms found on the forest floor. _

You grasped for the knife tucked into the holster on the back of your belt. You raised the knife defensively in front of you, pointed at the flower. It reared back, a frightful look on its logic defying face. What’ll it do next? Plead for its life?

“Please don’t, please please don’t. I don’t want to die!” 

Well, maybe it did. You lowered your arm but kept your knife up more for your assurance than any other reason at this point. For all you knew, this could be a powerful hallucination created by something you ate not to long ago. Funny since you can’t remember when the last time you ate before falling down into the cavern. 

“Please, uh,” the flower bit its lip, its eyes darting to the walls of the room to avoiding looking at you, “I’m Flowey. Flowey the F-flower… and I don’t want to hurt you, I really don’t, so why don’t you put that knife down.” The air was tense about the plant, its beady eyes wide as it finally glared down the blade of the knife at you. Unnerving. That’s what crawled up your back… Also the feeling of something bad surrounding you. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and slowly put your knife down, but not away. You might still need it despite the fact the flower gave you a name and hasn’t done anything to prove hostile yet. The flower started to speak. Again, not something you were very accustomed to. 

“W-well… Uhm, now that we have that out of the way, who are you? What’ve you doing down here?” The flower’s eyes widened a fraction, as if realization was slapping in the face, “Are you… Are you the Angel?”

“Angel? What do you mean?” You tilted your head and hesitantly leaned closer to the flower- er, Flowey. The air grew tense, his stance coiling in itself. Flowey shook his head. For the first time you noticed the tears in the golden petals around his face, pity filled your soul. What had this flower gone through? 

“If you don’t know, then there’s no point in telling you.” His head tilted forward, his face screwed up in concentration. You opened your mouth to say something, remark about your lack of knowledge of being an angel or how fucked up and extended these ‘shrooms were, but the flower seemed to sense your growing knack to speak and gave you a pointed look. You shut your mouth with the click of your teeth. After a few more moments, Flowey turned back to you. 

“She came by already, by sometimes she likes to make another visit in the evenings just in case.” Cryptic bastard. 

“What? Really, if you’re a hallucination then either I’ve got a fucked up imagination or you’re not speaking english,” you snapped. You moved to sit on your knees, leaning over and grabbing the empty water bottle Flowey discarded earlier. You screwed the cap back on and put it in your bag, completely missing the looks disbelief and disrespect screwing on his face. 

“You don’t know anything, don’t you? God, why do the idiots always fall down? ‘Least I should be glad you aren’t a genocidal freak…” He muttered that last bit to himself, but you still caught it. “Excuse me!”

Flowey glared up at you for a moment before shaking his head and sighing. “C’mon, we can’t talk here. She could still come by,” he looked up at the hole in the ceiling and the rapidly dimming light, “Follow me.” The flower sucked himself underground, leaving you sitting on the mound of dirt and grass in uttermost confusion and disbelief. That little flora did a complete one-eighty on his mood, who the hell was he, and what the hell was he talking about? Who’s this mysterious woman he mentioned? What about the Angel shtick? 

“Hey, are’ya coming? If you stay here, she’ll find you.” You stood up as you turned toward the doorway you were going to cross before you got distracted by the pretty flower. Still. How the fuー

“Let’s go! Move your human butt and motor!” Flowey disappeared into the ground again. Looks like you didn’t have a choice. You followed after the flower, half glad your hallucinogenic mind made him pop up every now and then. Perhaps this really was your inner conscious trying to get you to get out of the cave. Maybe you were knocked out by the Winders and now you're in a coma, having created an alternate reality to cope with the darkness swallowing your mind.

“God, I really need to lay off the ‘shrooms…”


End file.
